


Praying for Death

by Golden_Asp



Series: Ardyn YesCon Week works [8]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ardyn as the god of death, Child Abuse, Ignis is mortal and needs help, Ignis' dad is a dick, M/M, Underworld, Wild Hunt, ardyn yes con week day 7, bastardization of the Hades and Persephone myth, not explicit, with some fae elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 11:51:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14472165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Asp/pseuds/Golden_Asp
Summary: Ignis met the mysterious man in the woods when he was eight, and they became friends.  He knew that the man was the Lord of the Underworld, but he never imagined he'd end up falling in love with the god of the dead.  If only he could stay.





	Praying for Death

**Author's Note:**

> yes con day seven, underworld AU, serious bastardization of the Hades and Persephone myth with fae elements.
> 
> Art by Miura Sky  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MiuraSky)
> 
> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/golden_asp)

_Once, there was a lonely god. He was the god of Death and things beneath the earth, and for as long as his sister Life had existed, so had he._

_It was a lonely existence, and mortals came to fear him, because they feared Death._

_His sister bore many children; spring and summer and laughter and plenty and everything that mortal man loved._

_Death had no children, and as the eons passed, he sank into a lonely despair._

_He did his duty, striding about the world and taking those whose life string had been cut._

_His realm, the Underworld, was a beautiful place, but man described it as hell. He sat his dark throne and watched the shades of mortals pass through. Many went to the river Lethe, washing their soul clean of memories so they could be reborn. Some went to Elysium, their life cycles complete and they found solace in Death’s realm._

_Those who were truly evil Death locked away in the fiery pits, in their own personal hells._

_Death watched the other gods find love with both mortals and each other, but he was forever alone._

_Until one mortal boy changed him for eternity._

FFXV

Ignis ran through the woods, tears streaking his face. He cradled his broken arm to his chest, taking gulping breaths as he ran.

The sun filtered through the reaching trees, shadows flashing across the growing bruises on his face. He could taste blood on his lip.

He stumbled over a creek and into a clearing, collapsing with a sob. He curled into a ball, sobbing in pain.

Ignis didn’t know why his father grew so angry when he drank. He hadn’t gotten dinner done in time, and his father had taken out his rage on Ignis.

He was only eight. He wasn’t very good at using the wood stove, as his burned fingers could attest.

His mother had died when he was three. He had only the vaguest memories of her. She had been very sad.

He wanted to join her, to be free of his father. 

He lay there, and he cried.

He didn’t know how long he was there. He never wanted to go back.

At some point, somehow, he fell asleep.

He felt a warm breath run over his head, and something warm against his cheek. He stirred, crying out when he moved his arm. His eyes flew open, and he found himself face to face with a magnificent black horse.

“Oh!” he said softly. 

The horse watched him, ears pricked towards him. He lifted his good hand, pressing it against the horse’s cheek. It was warm, and soft.

“You’re very pretty,” Ignis said quietly. 

His father had an old draft horse to plow the fields, and that poor thing was perpetually on death’s door; old and sway backed and his spirit beaten down. 

Ignis knew what that was like.

This horse was none of those things. It had a rich, black coat, gleaming in the dying light. Long mane hung down from a high set, arched neck. Fine ears turned towards him, large dark eyes more intelligent than he had ever seen.

Ignis tangled his fingers in thick mane and pulled himself to his feet. He stroked the horse, looking over it. It wore a black saddle with silver accents, leather pouches hanging from the saddle and an empty scabbard for a sword.

“What do we have here?” a soft voice said. The horse let out a soft whicker, looking past Ignis at the source of the voice.

Ignis trembled, turning to face the speaker. He focused on the man’s boots, scared to look higher. 

What if it was his father?

“I’m very sorry I touched your horse,” Ignis whispered, tears welling in his eyes.

The man took a step closer. Ignis saw his boots; black and shiny and he thought he saw a skull embossed on them.

The man knelt before the boy. “Now, why would I mind? Regalia found you, and I believe she touched you first.”

“Father doesn’t like it when I touch his horse,” Ignis whispered.

The man reached out and Ignis flinched back, hitting the horse with a whimper.

Large hands hovered before Ignis. “I swear to you, I will not harm you.”

Ignis finally looked at the man’s face, trembling. The man had long, purple red hair and hazel eyes. His eyes were kind, which wasn’t a look Ignis was used to seeing. He wore all black, from his shiny boots to his silk shirt. He had a thick cloak over his shoulders, black fur around the collar. A sword hung at his hip.

“You have been greatly harmed,” the man said, fingers brushing Ignis’ black eye.

Ignis gasped, feeling a heat spread from the man’s fingers through his skin. He touched his face. 

It didn’t hurt!

Ignis gaped at the man.

“May I see your arm?”

Ignis held his broken arm out, whimpering as gentle hands took a hold of his arm.

The man hummed. “Just a moment.” He reached past Ignis, digging through one of the pouches on Regalia’s saddle. He pulled out two wineskins. One was full, the other nearly empty. 

Ignis watched as the man opened both of them, and poured a drop of the nearly empty wineskin into the full one. Ignis watched as whatever dropped into the full wineskin was golden and glowing and smelled amazing.

“Drink this,” the man said, holding the mouth of the full wineskin to Ignis’ lips.

Ignis opened his mouth, swallowing whatever was in the wineskin. It was sweet and heady and thick and tasted of the first brush of winter and the last moment of spring all at the same time.

He guzzled it, only stopping when it was empty. He stared at the wineskin, suddenly horrified.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to drink it all!”

“Shhh, it’s okay. I wanted you to,” the man said. “How is your arm?”

Ignis frowned, then looked at his broken arm. It was healed and didn’t hurt.

“What was that?” Ignis whispered.

“Ambrosia. Well, more water than Ambrosia. Straight Ambrosia would’ve killed you.”

Ignis looked at him. He swallowed.

Ambrosia was only available to the gods.

“You’re a god,” Ignis whispered.

The god bowed his head. “I am.”

Ignis stared at him, then dropped his eyes.

“Thank you for healing me,” Ignis whispered.

“It was my pleasure,” the god said. He lifted his head, focused on something only he could hear. “I must go. I have lingered too long. Come, I will take you back home.”

Ignis’ face crumbled. He didn’t want to go back.

“Couldn’t…Couldn’t I stay with you?” he asked.

The god looked back at him. “Oh, Ignis, I am not the kind of god you’d want to stay with. You have so much life left to live.”

“You know my name?” Ignis whispered.

The god smiled. “I do. I know the name of everyone who has passed through my realm.”

Ignis wiped his eyes. “Can I know your name?”

The god tilted his head. “I was called Ardyn, once.”

Ignis reached out and touched the god’s face. “Ardyn.”

“I know you don’t want to go back, Ignis, but you are god touched now. If you need me, call my name.”

Ardyn lifted Ignis into his arms and swung onto the back of Regalia. The mare tossed her head and Ardyn steered her through the woods. Ignis’ house came into view, and Ignis shrunk back against Ardyn’s chest.

“He is sleeping,” Ardyn said. “Remember, you will be okay.”

Ignis nodded, slipping off the horse. Regalia nuzzled his hair, making Ignis smile. He turned and walked slowly back to the house. He stood at the door, turning back to watch Ardyn and Regalia.

The horse reared, her forelegs together in a perfect levade. Ardyn pulled the furred hood over his head and Regalia let out a piercing cry. Dark hounds seem to melt from the shadows, chasing each other around the horse. Fire sparked in their eyes, and Regalia’s eyes echoed the flames.

Ardyn spun Regalia around the god and horse and hounds vanished into the night.

Ignis stared into the shadows after them, heart pounding.

Only one god led the hunt.

Death.

And Ignis wanted to see him again.

FFXV

Ignis never called on Ardyn. He didn’t want to abuse the power that the god of Death had given him.

He went to the same clearing that he had met Ardyn as often as he could. More often than not, he was bruised and battered.

Most of the time Ardyn didn’t show up, but sometimes Regalia would appear. Ignis learned to ride on Death’s horse, laughing in the sun as they cantered around the field. 

When he was eighteen, his father nearly killed him in a drunken rage.

Ignis fled to the forest, trailing blood behind him.

He ran straight into Ardyn’s waiting arms.

Ardyn healed him.

“Please, don’t make me go back,” Ignis wept.

Ardyn didn’t. 

“Come with me. I’ll never let him hurt you again.”

Ignis agreed, and Ardyn took him to the Underworld.

FFXV

Ignis was surprised to find that he found the Underworld beautiful. There was a night sky, and a moon that never set. It cast everything in an ethereal glow. Ignis loved the gardens, where white flowers he had never seen before grew, turning their faces to the moon.

He loved the palace, built of dark stone. He would have thought it would be foreboding, but he found it to be a welcoming place.

Ardyn told Ignis he could go wherever he wished, except for the river Lethe, who’s haunting song nearly pulled Ignis in, and Tartarus.

Ignis had no desire to go to either place, and the Underworld was large enough that he could spend lifetimes exploring it.

He saw Ardyn infrequently. The god was often above, gathering the souls of the dead.

Ignis spent his days in the library, or cooking the food Ardyn brought for him from the world above.

He wasn’t allowed to eat the food of the Underworld.

When Ardyn was around, they ate together. Ardyn told him about the souls he ushered through, and Ignis was always an attentive audience.

One day, months after Ignis had come to the Underworld, a beautiful woman appeared.

“Sister,” Ardyn said, standing up. Ignis looked at her. She had long white blonde hair, eyes the color of the sky at midday, and a soft smile.

“Brother,” she said, embracing him.

“I don’t see you often down here.”

She bowed her head, and when she lifted her eyes she looked straight at Ignis.

“He brings me here,” she said.

Ignis reeled back, afraid.

“You cannot have him,” Ardyn said.

“His father has razed the earth searching for his son. He has started wars. Surely you have noticed the increase of souls coming through your realm. He has sworn to destroy the gods themselves if the boy is not returned.”

Ardyn turned, looking at Ignis. Ignis stared up at the gods, heart pounding.

“His father does not care for him. Why would he start wars over him?”

“Because I belong to him,” Ignis said quietly, looking at his hands. He was nothing more than a piece of property to his father.

Ardyn snarled, slamming his fist into a marble wall.

“How many will you let die for one mortal boy?” the goddess asked.

Ignis stood up. “I will go back,” he said, voice cracking.

“Ignis,” Ardyn said.

“No. I cannot stay if people are dying because of me.”

Ardyn pulled the boy into his arms, and Ignis hugged him tightly back.

“I will get you away from him,” Ardyn whispered in his ear.

It was forbidden for gods to interfere directly with mortals.

“I know,” Ignis said.

He stepped back, taking one last look around the library. His heart broke a little.

Maybe he could come back after he died. He didn’t imagine it would take long.

“I will take you back,” Ardyn said tightly.

“No,” the goddess said, “I will take him back.”

Ardyn glared at his sister, hating her just a little.

“It is better this way, Ardyn,” his sister said.

“For whom?” he spat, watching as Ignis was led away by a shade. 

“Everyone.”

The goddess of Life turned and walked away, and Death was alone again.

FFXV

Ignis’ father locked him away when he was returned, swearing he would never see the light of day again. Ignis prayed to Ardyn every day, begging for Death to take him away, but it seemed his prayers fell on deaf ears. 

He didn’t realize that his father had warded the house, had traded his services for a witch to come and make sure Ignis didn’t escape again, and that no one would hear him.

Time passed, and Ignis grew used to the pain. He did whatever his father told him to do, his eyes dead. His father kept him drugged and pliant, a perfect doll.

Some nights, he heard the baying of hounds and he reached through the window, quietly calling the Hunt to find him and take him away.

But the wards held.

When Ignis was twenty-two, thin and pale and nearly dead, his father left the door open by mistake. He had seen something in the forest and had gone to investigate.

Ignis stumbled from the house, staring in shock at snow covered ground and the barren trees.

Winter had never touched this forest before. What had happened?

He hit his knees, digging his fingers in the cold soil.

“Ardyn,” he whispered to the ground.

A cold wind blew up suddenly, dying trees cracking with the force of it.

Ignis’ father came back and saw him on the ground, fingers buried in the earth.

He screamed, raining blows down on Ignis. Ignis couldn’t even fight back. He just curled into a ball and prayed for Death.

His prayers were answered.

From the darkness of the forest came an unearthly howl. The Hunt was abroad in daylight, but Ignis’ father was too enraged to notice the shadow hounds stream from the forest.

Sharp hoofbeats sounded against the frozen ground, accompanying the sound of Ignis’ father’s fists.

The hounds surged forward, taking the man down.

They didn’t kill him, but they circled him, nipping at his feet and hands and staring at him with fire filled eyes.

Ardyn dropped from Regalia’s back and rushed to Ignis, cradling him in his arms.

“Ardyn,” Ignis said with a smile, blood staining his lips.

“I could not find you,” Ardyn whispered. “You vanished from the sight of the gods. I felt you the moment you stepped out of the wards.”

“You searched for me?” Ignis said.

“Of course,” Ardyn said quietly. “Even my sister helped, when she realized your father had no intention of stopping his wars. But he hid himself behind the wards. We could not get to him.”

Ignis closed his eyes. “I cannot stay with him.”

“And you won’t,” Ardyn said firmly. He reached into a pouch at his waist and pulled out a pomegranate. Ignis immediately recognized it as one from the Underworld.

“My sister claims I have been inconsolable since you left. I have sent the earth into a long winter, trying to get you back. I would take you back, and let you stay by my side. And never let you go.”

Ignis looked up at him. “But I am no one. Just a mortal.”

“You are Ignis, and that is more than enough,” Ardyn said. “You are the man that lit up the darkness of my life.”

He sliced the pomegranate in half and held one half to Ignis’ lips. “Eat, and join me in the Underworld.”

Ignis opened his mouth, taking a bite. The juices exploded across his tongue, sweet and bitter at the same time.

Ardyn took a bite of the other half, and pressed their lips together. It was gentle and chaste and full of love.

“Come to the Underworld. Be my king.”

“Yes,” Ignis said, wrapping his arms around Ardyn’s neck.

Ardyn whistled for Regalia, and the horse came to them. Ardyn set Ignis in the saddle, then swung up behind him.

They stared at Ignis’ father, surrounded by the shadow hounds.

“What would you have done to him?” Ardyn asked.

Ignis tilted his head. “Nothing. Let him live alone and suffer for the rest of his days. Let him live knowing that Tartarus waits for him.”

Ardyn’s lips curled in a sinister smile. “So mote it be.”

Ardyn drew his sword and pointed it at the house. There was a horrid screech and the house and wards collapsed. He turned Regalia away and spurred the mare into a canter.

Ignis leaned back against Ardyn’s chest as they rode, the god’s arm tight around his waist. He took comfort from the god at his back. He had long flirted with Death, and now he belonged to him.

As they rode, the harsh grip of winter loosened, fresh shoots of grass exploding from under Regalia’s hooves.

Ardyn took Ignis to the Underworld, and Ignis felt his soul expand in joy and light.

He was with Ardyn, and he never had to deal with the pains of life again.

Ardyn pulled Regalia to a stop, swinging off her back and helping Ignis to the ground. He led him to the palace, through the grand halls to his room. He lowered Ignis to the bed, their lips locked together as they explored each other.

Ignis took it slow, memorizing each bit of Ardyn’s body.

After all, they had an eternity.

FFXV

_Before the shattered house in the forest, the body of a young man lies on the ground, lips stained with pomegranate juice._

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are love.
> 
> Huge thank you to Miura Sky for doing art for every single one of my yes con stories. This was a lot of fun. All the love my dear.


End file.
